Remembrance
by Vitia
Summary: Thrust into a world once familiar to me... I have no memories. They have been been stolen. And now, as I regain them, I am tortured.  SetoXOC. Warnings for later chapters: Gore, language, explicit content, alcohol, etc, etc.
1. Prologue: Letter Never Received

Author's Note: This story is purely fan-based; I do not own Yu-Gi-Oh, nor any of its associations. The story will get more interesting, and more plot-based, this is simply the exposition. However, like most prologues, it reveals something about one or more of the main characters and is quite important. Anyhow, I'm rambling. Enjoy. Rated M for later chapters, some of which I've already drafted.

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><p><strong>Remembrance<strong>

_A single teardrop, icy as the person who'd shed it…_

_ A golden star, bright as her life's light…_

_ A roaring fire, passionate and melting the heart…_

_ An unopened letter, sealed with the blood that was spilt…_

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><p><em>My Dearest,<em>

_ It seems as though centuries have passed since that fateful day. I battled for my brother and I's freedom. And I had won it, prideful I am. But I had promised you something, that in time, with my newfound power, I'd forgotten. I am not asking for your forgiveness. I want nothing more than to see you again, and to reawaken the only piece of my childhood memory which was pleasant. Call it selfish, that I want to see you for my own reasons. Though, I have a feeling you may return such a gesture as this._

_ Many consider me to be a monster; I just do as I must to keep my brother and me safe. I've been fighting a pointless battle my entire life, and you know that better than anyone. I don't care for what I do sometime; I admit, there are days when I'd like to give up entirely. But thoughts, memories, such as the dear ones I hold of you are what keep me alive. _

_ What I did was wrong; I curse myself a thousand times over, and still have not been able to rid myself of the guilt of my acts. Please fly back to me, my beautiful bird. Though as I have written those words, my mind aches in desperation, in despair, for I fear it may be too late. I fear you may never receive this letter. That thought pains me too greatly. If by some chance, you are able to give a fleeting glance to my meaningless prose, know this:_

_ I am sorry. _

_ Forever Yours,_

_ -Seto Kaiba_


	2. Fateful Night

_Author's Note: The chapters may be brief. But I hope they convey the plot effectively. The story is told from first person view, from the eyes of my OC. The story from here on out will be dark, at least for a while._ _Warnings for this chapter: Dangerous themes, violence, mild language_

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><p>It was a rather calm night in the city. Complete darkness coated the streets and alleys, a vast majority of the lights flickering, on the brink of death. An eerie fog hung in the air, a misleading ghost snaking through the blackness. This place could be compared to purgatory; even the most determined of wanderers would never find their way out. Save me, of course. I'd already done that once.<p>

I turned the corner and moved briskly toward my destination, which was, at this particular moment, unknown. I simply knew the path I was told to follow, and was hoping to meet my mysterious accomplice somewhere along the way. They hadn't told me much – they'd even disguises their voice when we'd talked over the phone – and I was fairly suspicious. However, the momentous expectations this person had for me were too much to turn down. The money would be a fitting reward, certainly, but it was the reputation I'd gain from pulling this job off that I really sought. After this, all others of my specialty would be considered second-rate, and only the best in Domino City would bother hiring me. A smirk crossed my face, a light danced in my eyes, and I turned another bend.

This alleyway was a dead end, and so I had believed my newfound ally to be awaiting me at its end. Indeed, in the shadows of this passage's end, there stood someone clad in black. They wore a long trench coat, and some hooded article of clothing beneath it, judging by the cloth which hid the back of their head from me. I stopped walking, just ten feet or so away from whoever they were. I cleared my throat to indicate my presence, and was met with a dry chuckle.

"Oh, I knew you were there…" It was a man's voice, dull and scratchy. My profession should have prepared me for such a small shock as the sound of the man's voice, but it had not, and I shivered in response. I wasn't surprised to find my client to be male, but his voice… it was dreadful, cold and unfeeling, alive with emotionlessness. I clenched my fists at my sides, and attempted to control the tremors in my voice when I replied.

"Evening, sir. Might I be enlightened as to the name of my employer?" There was another, more hideous chuckle from the cloaked man. The heat in my stomach was rising into my chest, tensing all of my muscles on its journey upward. I silently stood, gritting my teeth, awaiting the moment the stranger would speak again, hopefully to unveil his identity to me. Yet, as calm as I tried to remain, my eyes were already darting about this place, searching for anything I could possibly use to defend myself. I knew my best bet would be the knife slipped into my jeans waistband, but if he had a gun…

"So polite you are. Unfortunately, I may not share the name of your employer. I am merely one of his faithful servants." The hood fell back with a toss of the man's head, revealing short, platinum blond hair. I raised an eyebrow, now more uncertain of my situation than before.

"I was told I was meeting my client, directly." I blinked, spitting on the concrete beneath me. "Now, where is he?" At this, the man turned, revealing a terrifying face. A large, fresh gash ran down the left side of his face, the red coagulating at his jaw line, looking like bloody foam from rabies. The one eye which was intact was a vibrant blue, though the white surrounding it was bloodshot. A shadow of unshaved facial hair fell across his right jaw, in mismatched lengths at different intervals. I could not prevent myself from unveiling a short gasp at his raw appearance.

"I'm sorry; I can't tell you of his location. Not yet." When he spoke, the flesh in his face rippled, as though some parasite was eating through the muscles beneath his skin every time he uttered a word. When he gave no further response, I grew annoyed, even through my apparent fear. I sighed, looking down, and away from that disgusting man.

"If you cannot tell me who he is, nor where to find him, then I have wasted my time," I growled. I was surprised to hear him growl in response, though the sound was largely animalistic, and purely wordless. My stomach flipped in anxiety. Though I was about to turn and leave, I found myself spellbound by the sound he'd made, and frozen in my position. "W-what was that, sir?" I said, trying to sound more formidable than I felt. He tilted his head down in such an _inhuman _manner, drawing up the corners of his mouth, and snarling like some sort of hellish _beast_. I didn't want to run – that would only expose my weakness to whoever, or whatever, this man, or creature was.

My heart was pounding; I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my body. What was this guy? I heard a faint popping sound, and he'd twisted his head into the most awkward position possible; it looked downright painful, in fact, it looked as though someone had just snapped the man's neck. "R-… P-…erg," he groaned, gripping his head. His eyes, or, eye, met mine once again, sending a wave of ice shooting through my veins. I felt overcome with the sudden need to flee, which was so very much against my nature.

He stumbled toward me, spitting blood onto the stones beneath us. There is a moment in a person's life in which they desire nothing more than to run away from their fears, to escape a confrontation. At this very moment in my life, I wished that my legs would unclench, so that I could do that exactly: run away. But my mind was paralyzed along with my body. I'd never been attacked directly before this day – all of my previous enemies, whoever they were, had ordered my killing to be a secret. I was accustomed to those who tried to stab me in the back, or shoot me in the back of the head, but never before had I encountered anyone foolish enough to take me head on.

Perhaps it was the shock of this very scenario which had led me to not move a muscle. My eyes were suddenly registering at a sloth-like speed, and I was not aware of the man's closeness to me until I felt a sharp pain on my shoulder; the fiend had bit me! I cringed in the momentary pain, soon becoming uncomfortably aware of the man's even more distorted features, as he pulled away from my wound with blood dripping from his mouth. The action of the situation finally settled itself into my brain, and I quickly launched a kick upwards, aiming at his already damaged jaw. I hit my target, as I always did, and sent him crippling backward, clutching his mouth in agony.

I reached for the knife tucked carefully beneath my shirt. As I withdrew it, the polished silver blade glittered in the dull light of the single streetlight above us. The man obviously caught a glimpse of the weapon, as he continued to move away from me, still clutching onto his deformed jaw. I playfully exchanged the blade between my hands, moving in on what was now my _prey_. A sick grin crossed my face, and I shamelessly kicked dirt and pebbles into the man's eyes. He cried out in a mixture of pain, and fear for his own life. I held the blade high. "What a pity… I really had hoped this job wouldn't fall through. And I really wasn't planning on dirtying this blade tonight, but I guess what happens… happens." I narrowed my eyes, and prepared for that final thrust downward.

A whirring sound in the air caught my attention, and momentarily held it elsewhere. I rolled to the side, casting my knife down at the ground, barely dodging what I was led to believe to be… yes, a dart. Its red-plumed end stuck obnoxiously out between two bricks where I'd previously stood. Judging by the angle it was lodged at... I casted a glance up and to my left. There was no one there, but then where had the dart come from? My eyes never lied. A low growl rumbled in my throat, as I cast my attention back toward my shuddering victim, now in the corner of the alleyway.

"That dart… who shot it?" I asked him, advancing toward him with knife in hand. He only groaned in response, and I gave a short while's thought as to how badly I'd actually injured him. No doubt he'd live if I just left him now. "If you tell me who shot it, I'll leave you with your life." Instead of giving me a sensible reply, the man just buried his head into his coat, and starting helplessly weeping. It was as though he'd undergone a personality change, all within a matter of seconds. When he finally looked up again, his eyes became wide in panic.

"B-behind…!" he gasped, covering his face.

I should've thought quicker than I did. Stupid me. There was an acute pain in the side of my neck the next instant, and I let out a sharp hiss of air. "W-what?" I murmured, turning round. There stood a man in the shadows; he simply stood there, cackling. I started toward him, tried to get a better look at my offender, but I came to the sudden realization that he'd hit me with some sort of drugged dart. I reached up to my neck, and pulled it out; it hurt more than the initial injury. I reveled in the intense pain for a moment, and within a few seconds, I was on the ground, struggling for intake of air. This drug, whatever it was, was working fast. I could feel my airway closing up – I felt as though I was taking every breath through a drinking straw.

The fire in my lungs continued to rage as I lifted my head onto my arm, trying to squint through the darkness at the man who still stood laughing. "My dearest, it's best not to struggle," he purred. My eyelids were now overwhelmingly heavy, and I fought to keep my eyes open just the slightest bit. I managed the task of breathing for now, but after each rough intake of air, my lungs screamed out in pain. Every nerve in my body pulsed together in crushing agony. It wasn't long after that I completely lost what composure I'd maintained.

"Damn it." My eyes closed, my breathing stopped. My bones pulled me down, down, into the earth below, and into the rising fires of hell, right where I belonged. I heard the man laughing, and then, there was no sound at all. There was nothing, only blackness.


	3. Captor's Confrontation

_Author's Note: The production of chapters at such a rapid rate will not occur after tonight. I just happen to have a work-free night, which is a rare occasion. I apologize for brevity, but I do believe the story remains effective, at least right now. Warnings for this chapter: Disturbing themes_

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><p>There was a faint sound: a door slamming shut, quite a distance away. I opened my mouth. I took a long swallow of air. Smaller sounds were beginning to grow in clarity, and a light bore through my eyelids, prying my eyes open. My vision was blurry, but it had returned to me, all the same. I saw a shiny surface beneath me – I'd guess steel if I had to. Directly in front of my face, there was a wire fence.<p>

The shock of the object so close to me sent me shooting up into a sitting position, immediately falling back against another wall of the wire. I took another gulp of air. As the empty seconds ticked by, I became painfully aware of several things. First, I was a captive. The wire which surrounded me told me so – I was in a cage, something similar to a dog's kennel. There was a door, padlocked shut. And I was being held in some sort of larger storage facility; there were large brown boxes everywhere in the room, but apart from that, the area was bare and grey. There was nothing in my cage except for a bottle of spring water.

Second, I had terrible aches, all over my body. Upon examining my arms, I witnessed two large bruises on either of my elbows. My legs were the same, bruised at the joints. I imagined my face to be cut up as well, judging from the stinging sensation which ran rampant around my eyes and nose. My backbone felt as though it'd been recently crushed, and my head was pounding as well. It was more miserable than any feeling I'd had b-…

Before?

The third and final thing I became aware of: I had no idea who I was. I searched and searched for memories, from any time, recent or old, but there was nothing. My brain was an empty vault, everything I'd known stolen from it. I had no name. I had no age. No family, no friends, and no personal identity whatsoever. The only memories I held were of those waking up, not three minutes ago. This was terrible… _Think! Think! You have to remember!_

"Something wrong?" The voice startled me, but I did not jump, did not physically flinch. I calmly turned my head toward the sound of the man who'd spoken. He was dressed in a rather extravagant brown suit, complete with golden pocket watch and cane; he had flowing ebony hair, which covered one side of his face – his visible eye was a lustrous hazel in color. I blinked, trying to imagine if I'd seen this man before. Perhaps he was my captor. But I would not jump to a conclusion… not when I had nothing to draw conclusions from. Instead, I stared blankly back at him, trying as best I could to ignore the intense pain in my head.

"You seem a little…lost," he remarked, leaning on his cane for support. Surely, my eyes were alive and swimming with confusion. What did he mean by that? Surely it made sense that he spoke of my current captive situation; he was right – I had absolutely no idea where I was. But the words tore deeper into my brain than that. I was aware of my sudden suspiciousness, that perhaps this man had something to do with my missing memories. When he said that I was "lost", did he mean it in more than one way? He chuckled, and stepped toward my cage, gripping onto the other side of the chain links. I swallowed hard, for there was something unsettling about his presence so close to my own.

"W-who are you?" I asked shakily, backing into the wired wall furthest from him. He threw his head back in a thundering, lion-like laughter. I cringed at the sound, a new feeling quickly radiating throughout my body: the tension of terror. But it was more than that; seemingly endless amounts of adrenaline were running wild in my bloodstream, causing my muscles to rapidly tighten and relax, as though I subconsciously was awaiting action. I clung to the wire behind me, until I'd realized I'd squeezed so hard that the tiny links began cutting into my skin.

"My name is Pegasus, Pegasus Crawford." He turned away from me momentarily, withdrawing a small metal top from his pocket. The object dropped to the concrete floor with a metallic clank, spinning endlessly round and round. My eyes were transfixed upon the small spinning thing, because it provoked such curiosity. Why anyone would carry such an object on their person was a mystery to me, except for perhaps the excuse that you were a child, and it was a play-thing. It seemed oddly familiar, but I could place no exact image of ever seeing it before.

"Do I… know you?" I murmured, unsure of the words as they left my mouth. Pegasus laughed, kneeling so that he was on my level, and turning to face me. He too watched the metal top spin on the floor, and silent seconds passed, before the toy slowed, and fell onto its side. It rolled toward my cage, but he clamped a fist over the object before I had the chance to examine it in any greater detail. Some part of me yearned to hold the object. He spun the top again, closer to him. We watched it do the same as it had before, until he allowed it to roll within the range of my grasp. I gestured at the silvery toy, and he nodded in approval. I reached two skinny fingers through a hole in the wire, and retrieved the object of my interests.

The sides of the toy had been engraved with intricate images. A dragon flying over a forest was depicted, and as I turned it, a young boy holding a crystal, and finally, a magnificent bird. I turned it over in my palm several times, looking for other markings. The tip of the metallic top had been designed in a spiral shape. The base had not been carved as the rest of the toy had been. Instead, the letters "SK" had been roughly rubbed into its shiny surface, dulling the area where the letters had been written. It looked as though someone had completed this etching sometime after the top's intimal creation, with a dull knife or perhaps a pen. The letters made no sense to me; I pondered for a moment if they could be my own initials.

"SK. Are those my initials?" I mused, glancing up at Pegasus. He shook his head no, and I frowned as I looked back at the tiny object in my hands. I felt as though the top which I held in my hands held with it some sort of clue to my past. What exactly it was I was uncertain of. I had the dawning idea that perhaps the man kneeling in front of me might know something about the object, considering he was the one in possession of it. I looked back up at him, and he raised an eyebrow at me.

"I think I've seen this before, somewhere. I just can't-" Pegasus grinned slyly, motioning for me to be silent. He let out a long hiss of air, and checked his pocket watch halfheartedly.

"You just can't remember," he agreed, completing my statement. He extended a hand, and I silently plopped the top back into the center of his outstretched palm. "I know you can't remember." He rolled his fingers backward, concealing the toy from my eyes once more.

"In fact, it was I who so politely removed the burden of your memories from you."


	4. A Single Memory

_Author's Note: I feel really accomplished in getting this chapter finished before having to go record a play. The introduction of more YGO characters will occur shortly after this chapter, though you may be surprised by the manner of the OC in meeting them... yeah. Warnings for this chapter: Disturbing themes, gore/violence/death, rape of a child, mild language, drug reference_

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><p>"<em>In fact, it was I who so politely removed the burden of your memories from you." <em>The words played in my head, over and over, like a broken record. This man, Pegasus, had taken everything I knew away from me. A flutter of anger tore through my chest, and I gripped the chain links in front of me. I heaved, the motion causing my joints to burn in pain, but the emotion swelling in my head eased the anguish, and allowed me to concentrate on glaring at Pegasus, as though my stare could kill the man.

"You stole my memories? You're the reason I can't remember anything?" I pushed against the wire, urging it to give way, which it almost did. Pegasus backed up, giving me a pitiful look, which only caused my rage to flare again. I rammed my shoulder into one of the supports at the corner of the cage, and it surely must've bent about 10 degrees, at the least. Pegasus shook his head, and made a "tsk" sound with his tongue repeatedly. I would've hit the metal beam again, but my shoulder must've been previously injured, as it now burned in agonizing discomfort. Glancing down at the bare flesh, I witnessed a deep set of scabbed teeth marks, reopened by my banging against the cage. I shut my eyes, and gripped the injured area tightly.

"Yes. I am the reason for your missing memories," he admitted, shifting to examine me at a better angle. "But if you could please just be rational about it, I will return them to you, in time." I barely registered what he was saying, for it felt as though someone had just rammed a knife straight through my shoulder. I opened my eyes, gasping out loud because the pain was simply unbearable. Pegasus must've noticed that I was unable to pay attention to his speech, because he shortly after through a bottle through my confinement. I glanced at it, read the label, and then looked back up at him. "Painkillers, Oxycontin. And you have my word that they are nothing else. Just don't take more than two," he added, but much to his dismay, I had already swallowed four. I still clung to my wound, hoping that soon the drugs would take effect, and I'd feel nothing.

"Why did you take my memory away?" I groaned, leaning against my uninjured shoulder for support. Pegasus knelt before the cage again, retrieving the bottle from the pills. I would've pounced on his hand and quite possibly broken his wrist, if I'd found enough strength to move – which of course, I unfortunately had not.

"I needed a clean slate to work with, plain and simple. Your memory would've prevented you from completing the task I would have assigned to you. So, in order to maximize your chances for success, I simply wiped away all of that useless information." I felt the pain slowly fading away, though the suffering was far from over. I gasped lightly as I dared to move away from the cage wall, only so that I could look directly into Pegasus' eye. I took another heaving breath, and pressed by forehead against the chain links, minimizing the distance between us.

"You bastard," I whispered harshly. "Was it really something so important that you had to take away everything I knew?" He nodded slowly, pressing his forehead against mine on the wire; curses danced on the tip of my tongue. He pulled back his ebony hair, revealing his other eye, which to my surprise, was crafted of gold. It was intriguing to the point of my temporary distraction. I wanted to touch it for some strange reason, though the more rational portion of my brain prevented me from reaching out and doing so. He pointed solemnly to his golden eye.

"Using this," he began, "I was able to take your memory away. However, also using this eye, I have the ability to return your memories to you, as I see fit." Pegasus turned his head swiftly, allowing his hair to fall back into place over his artificial eye. "I will return them to you, if you complete the tasks I ask of you. Doesn't that seem fair?" A growl caught in my throat.

"No," I spat venomously. Well, perhaps I had revealed something about myself; I had a temper like none other. I consciously noted my observation before opening my mouth again. "If you have the power to return them to me, I demand you do so now!" I shook the fence separating us, and Pegasus was obviously shocked by my strength, as he quickly returned to standing position, and backed a few steps away. The pain in my shoulder was steadily dying away now, and I felt as though I really could break the barrier which separated us if I tried again now. Instead, however, my returning anger was interrupted by my captor's speaking.

"I'm afraid I can't do that. Your mission, and mine, would be ruined if I did," he said pointedly. He took up his cane again, and leaned heavily on it. "If you obey me, I will return your memories, one by one, until you hold the entirety of your past once again." I wanted to kill him, but it suddenly occurred to me that if I did, I would never know who I really was. Would I rather live a life shrouded in darkness, or a life under the complete control of this man, Pegasus? My silence earned another disturbing smile from the golden-eyed man. "There, that's better. Honestly, I hate to resort to violence, so it would be quite lovely if you could just listen to me," he purred. Judging by the changing expression on his face, a new thought had just dawned unto him. "Now, if I open this door, and you behave, I will return one of your memories as a reward."

I felt like a dog, obeying its master. Pegasus slipped a key into the padlock on my cage, and the door opened. I managed to stand, though it took much of my returning strength to do so. Silently, I passed through the cage's door, shooting a glare at Pegasus as I passed him, and watched him shut the door to the now-empty cage. I knew I wouldn't last much longer, taking into consideration the ache in my knees, so I eased myself onto the concrete floor. I lay on my side, watching Pegasus lean against one of the brown boxes.

"As promised," he commented, waving his hand. I saw a soft glow beneath his ghostly hair, and in the next instant, my entire body had gone rigid. A freezing sensation passed through my body, and I felt my head fall back, my eyesight gone the next second…

_A memory…_

_A small girl was running around the dining table of an old, dusty house. She held a deck of cards in her hand, chanting in song the name of each monster which appeared on every card. A slightly older looking boy danced around the table with her, a similar deck of cards in his own hands. An older woman stood at the kitchen sink, laughing at the two children as she chopped vegetables for what appeared to be the family's dinner. A man, assumed to be the women's husband, sat at the dinner table, high-fiving the boy and girl every time they completed a lap around the table. His cheeks were rosy, and he had a comforting smile upon his maw. _

_The mother turned away from the counter, saying something over the children's laughter and play. She set out two plates of food on the table, and the children rocketed into their seats, pushing their decks of cards to the side of the table opposite them. They laughed and talked, and the mother soon joined her family. They ate together, exchanging tales of their days at work, and stories of all of the fun that had happened in kindergarten that day. Not one of them stopped smiling all through dinner. When at last they had finished, the young boy climbed into his father's lap, and listened as his father read him the daily news. The younger girl immediately went to her mother's side, drying each dish as her mother handed her clean ones, before placing them into a rack on the left side of the kitchen sink. _

_Breaking into the tranquility of the scene, there was a loud knock on the door. The family's father got up, gently setting the boy on his feet next to his little sister. He went to the door, and opened it wide. There was muffled speech. Finally, the words "No! Please!" sprung from the father's lips. There was gunfire. The two children began to scream and whine in panic, and the mother quickly grabbed them up and ran upstairs. The father lay motionless on the wooden floor, the blood slowly streaming from the center of his head down to its surface. Some people entered the house, two of the three stuffing valuable objects into bags, one of the three moving quickly up the stairs after the family's mother and children. _

_The young girl was me, and I could now see though her eyes. My brother whined as our mother pushed us into a closet, hushing us to the best of her ability before shutting the door. We heard her footsteps as she left us there in the blackness. After a few moments, there was another, single gunshot. A shrill scream was followed by one more shot, which was in turn followed by silence. My brother beside me began to whimper, and I cupped my hand over his mouth, knowing my mom would've wanted us to stay quiet. I took a breath and held it as I heard footsteps outside the closet. _

"_Find the kids!" I heard someone shout. At this, my brother could take no more. Silas burst through the closet doors, escaping my grip, and crying out, "Mommy!" I stayed put, and watched in horror through the open door as my older brother was pounded by a rain of bullets, blood and flesh dripping and dropping to the floor. I put a hand over my mouth, dry heaving into my palm, and shut my eyes. When I opened them again, I took in the scene of my brother's body – blown to pieces, chunks of muscle and coagulated blood smeared over the floorboards. Tears formed at the corners of my eyes, and I buried myself wordlessly into the corner of the closet, pulling a winter jacket over my tiny, quivering body._

_Moments later, the closet doors were violently pulled from their hinges. I hid from the attackers beneath the coat, but it did not take them long to find me; I was lifted from the safety of my father's fluffy down jacket, and plopped down upon the bedside. A man stared angrily at me, a glossy black pistol pulled tight to his chest. I swallowed hard as he raised the gun. I could feel the cold metal of the barrel's end press into the center of my head, but before the man had a chance to pull the trigger, one of the other men grabbed the gun away from him, and shouted something in a foreign language. "Why kill her right now? We haven't had fun yet," I recognized. A feeling of sickness and terror welled up inside my tiny chest. The man who'd stopped the gunfire turned toward me, and suddenly lifted me up to the top of the bed. _

_The next thing I knew, he was on top of me, crushing my small, weak body. I gasped for every breath, and stretched my head up, striving for precious oxygen. He pulled back and allowed me temporary reprieve, but only to pull his pants down, and reveal a large, protruding organ from between his legs. I took in the sight of the man, staring at the scar which ran across his right eye, and dedicating that image to my memory. He assaulted me, tearing my petite skirt away from my body, and turning me around so that my bare bottom faced him. I felt his hand slap the bare flesh of my ass, much like my father would do when I misbehaved, only, never like this. Never had I been naked in my father's presence. I began to sob, and the man took his gun and whacked it into the side of my head. I was dizzy and very much out of it, though not enough to the point of being unconscious. I wish I had been. _

_I felt something large entering my bottom. I screamed at the top of my lungs, and I heard laughter in response. The object continued to push its way upward, and I flailed helplessly and screamed and kicked and sobbed into the soft pillows beneath me. The object retreated briefly, before it was shoved up into me again, and again, and again, each time bringing with it greater pain. I yelped in agony, but the man didn't stop. Instead, he turned me, so that I could witness him pounding that thing between his legs into me again and again. His face was contorted in pleasure, that I could tell, even through my blurry vision. He stopped only when he too screamed, though it was not for the same reasons as my screams had been. _

_He pulled the thing from me; it was covered in blood and a sticky white fluid. He climbed onto me, pressing its tip against my lips. I turned my head away, cringing in disgust. The man yanked my head back, prying my jaws open before shoving the bloody appendage into my mouth. I didn't want it there, and he pushed it so far down into my throat I felt as though I was going to vomit. But he pulled out before I got to that point. I yelped when he pinned me to the bed again, reaching down to touch my "privates", as my mother had adequately named that area of my body. "No!" I screamed, feeling his fingers swirl around inside my tiny entrance. _

_At this point, I snapped. I lifted my head, and bit with as much force as I could muster into his neck. I felt blood pour into my mouth, but didn't care, and continued to dig my sharp teeth through the layers of flesh. The man yowled in pain, pushing me away from him, and off the edge of the bed. I tumbled onto the floor, and hit my already-bleeding head against a dresser. My vision wert suddenly black; I could hear sirens and more yelling. They left me there, bleeding from both my head and anus, surely thinking I would be dead before any medical help could possibly arrive. _

_But they had been mistaken. I lived. _


	5. Unnatural

_Author's Note: Not really supposed to be working on this while actually working, but what the hay? I think it's turning out decently. Warnings for this chapter: Nudity, mild language, disturbing themes, reference to violence/death_

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><p>I opened my eyes at long last, screaming as loud as I was able. I was panting, drenched in my own sweat. I took in a long, shaky breath through my mouth, and clutched my body one piece at a time, as though making sure that I was entirely there. I was leaning against a large wooden box, and as I now finally realized, I was completely unclothed. I examined myself uneasily, regarding the scars which tainted my body at nearly every few inches of skin. I shuddered uncontrollably, both from cold and unpleasant memory.<p>

"So, how did you enjoy your little trip to the past?" I jolted my head up, using an arm to cover my breasts, and pulling my legs tight together in an attempt to hide everything below the waist. Pegasus only laughed at me; I could see him clearly now, sitting on another brown box, opposite mine. His quirky smile had returned. My body shook, and he finally gave me another pitying glance.

"That's pretty damn harsh for the first memory you give back," I snarled, sniffling once. I determined I must've started crying mid-vision. Pegasus nodded slowly, stepping down from his perch. He walked over to the cage, and retrieved a small stack of clothing from inside of it. He threw the clothes at me, and I quickly shifted through them using my unoccupied hand. There was a plain, black tank top, a pair of black jeans, and appropriately dark, matching undergarments.

"They're nearly identical to the clothes you were wearing when I decided to retrieve you. I thought you might want something to cover up," he said, a slight hint of question in his tone. He turned his back to me politely, and I hurriedly shifted, pulling the clothing on. I coughed on purpose, giving indication to him that it was alright for him to turn back to me. He did so, and walked over to my side. "I'm sorry, but that seemed an appropriate first memory to provide." I looked at Pegasus with distaste, and I would've probably killed him then and there, save for the fact that I wanted answers. And he held the sole copy of keys to those answers.

"So what happened to them?" I asked, my tone bubbling with rage. Pegasus cast me a curious glance, looking for clarification. "I mean, what happened to those men from my memory? The ones who killed my family, and…and raped me…" My voice became weak, trailed off. He sat down beside me, as if trying to comfort me. His presence only caused a rush of adrenaline to spread through my body, but I once again pushed away the desire to attack him. Instead, I calmly asked, "Were they caught?"

"No, they managed to escape the crime scene, and continued committing acts such as that for the next several years." I quickly became enraged, turning to slam my fists into the wooden crate behind me. Once again, I surprised myself, and Pegasus, with my strength, as both fists penetrated the wood, causing splinters to fly about. I continued until my hands hurt more than my injured shoulder, blood dripping from multiple sites where large pieces of wood had become stuck in my skin. I watched the red fall down to the tips of my fingers, dripping onto the floor like little rubies. The sight of blood fascinated me, but I quickly turned my head back to Pegasus. He grasped one of my hands, and began to remove the lengthier pieces of wood from the skin.

"Were they eventually caught?" I asked, fearing the answer. Pegasus did not look up at me when he gave his response, continuing to remove the splinters from my hands.

"Yes, they were." A particularly long piece was removed, and I squinted in pain at it was. I sighed thankfully, and met Pegasus with the first smile I'd dare show since this whole incident had begun. He cleared his throat before admitting a final detail. "In fact, you killed all three of them, not two days before your thirteenth birthday." A silence fell over us as he continued to pick at my bloodied hands. I listened to the only sounds in the room: a mouse scurrying about, the tiny slivers of wood falling to the concrete floor, the wind whipping against the side of the building. I should've been ashamed of my actions; any normal person would've been ashamed at committing murder, even if it was against someone who'd wronged your family. But I did not feel shame. Instead, I felt joy, seeping through my veins like some sort of disease, relieving the pain more effectively than the painkillers had.

"I killed them?" I mused, wanting to hear him utter the words again. Pegasus met my tempting stare, and cleared his throat.

"Yes. You killed them." The ecstasy of hearing that phrase again ran rampant through my body, making my back arch in pleasure. Pegasus seemed a bit frightened at my reaction, but I could not help it. Those bastards had gotten what they deserved. I swallowed hard, coming down from my high, and met Pegasus' stare.

"How did I kill them, Pegasus?" He nervously answered my desire for the truth.

"You shot them. You blasted them to pieces, as they had done to your brother." I grinned like an idiot. Pegasus frowned in response, lifting a hand, and slapping it across my face. I was shocked, and I rubbed the pain suddenly burning in my cheek. I glared at him, and he stood, leaving my second hand unattended. I began to pick out the chips of wood myself. "You should not be reacting like that so soon," he breathlessly muttered. "It astonishes me that you've returned to that state of mind already. No matter," he said, turning toward me again. He pulled the ebony hair back, revealing the golden eye. "You just need to be a bit more…sympathetic, is all." There was a flash of light, and then the darkness returned. I slumped over, motionless, and unfeeling.


	6. Trapped

_Author's Note: So, due to a few words of encouragement, I was able to post this chapter tonight. I think that's going to be it for the evening though. I'm pretty tired. Well, I hope you enjoy the sixth addition to Remembrance. I'm thinking Seto will show up in Chapter 8 or 9. Warnings for this chapter: Disturbing themes, mild language_

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><p>The numbness which held my body was finally beginning to give way to feeling again, though judging by the first unpleasant sensation of a headache, I did not want it to be so. I'd rather had remained unconscious, but my body's condition would beg to differ – I was well enough to be moving about. I cracked an eye open, revealing a stone floor, stone wall, and steel bars. I must've been in some sort of prison cell. I lifted myself upright, kneeling and rubbing my eyes. I blinked, and gave a little yawn before looking around.<p>

I was indeed, locked in a cell. Steel bars ran across one of the four sides of my containment area. Haphazard brick walls made up the other three. I examined myself, still in the black clothes from earlier, with prison shackles attached to my ankles and wrists. I was chained to the nearest wall. I groaned and leaned back against it. I stretched and cracked my back before twisting my neck to the side. There was a long hallway leading away from my cell, scarcely lit with flickering torches. Other, smaller cells lined the hallway's length. I could not see to the end of the corridor, but assumed there to be a door and staircase somewhere in that mess of darkness.

I felt groggy and sick, and tried to summon back my memories from before I'd found myself stuck in this cell. I remembered the run-in with my captor, Pegasus Crawford. The anger rose in my throat as I thought of him, and what he'd done to me. I bared my teeth, gritting them together. I then recalled him granting a memory back to me, one which made me, once again, shudder. But I was able to push it away this time, now that I was not under the golden-eyed man's control. I remember Pegasus telling me that I'd killed those who'd taken the lives of my family members, and who'd so violently assaulted me. I recall a feeling of joy when he told me that, but now there is only guilt. I wondered why, but this time, my memory could not grant a definitive answer.

Offhand, a second thought occurred to me: the silver top which Pegasus had held when I first met him. I remembered the letters "SK" which were rubbed into its base, and the carvings of a dragon, a boy, and a bird which circled the toy. I remembered the specific swirls in the silvery object, and I remembered holding it in my own hand, feeling its balance as I shifted it between my palms. I remember returning it to Pegasus, watching him pocket it.

That memory I could not explain, for it did not seem incredibly significant. Yet it plagued the back of my mind, and refused to be dismissed as easily as the others had been. I did not understand it, but did not question it, for it seemed to be one of the more pleasant memories which I had managed to hang onto. I closed my eyes, and allowed my body to fall into a state of half-sleep; God knows I needed it, as weak as I felt. The silence was deafening, but it did comfort me to some degree. I yawned again and nestled my head into my long, black hair, seeking warmth in this freezer of a dungeon.

Finally, a sound broke the silence. A door opened at the far end of the hallway; I could see light pouring through its rectangular frame. Two figures advanced through the bleak light, though by the time they were halfway down the corridor, I could tell that one of them was unconscious and was being dragged by the other. I expected to see Pegasus, though his man was certainly not him. He was dressed in a shabby black suit, and had grey haired slicked back against his head. He wore sunglasses even though the dungeon was, for the most part, dark. The cell door creaked open, and he carried the smaller figure inside of my confinement. I pulled against my chains, getting as close to the man as I was able. He gave me a quick sideward glance before shackling the smaller body. "Hello, madam," he said, nodding at me.

"Who's that?" I asked, shaking a hand at the smaller one who'd just been chained to the wall. The older man shook his head, and exited the cell, but took the time to lean against the bars and answer me, much to my surprise.

"I don't know his name. But he is just a soulless prisoner of Master Pegasus. There will be many more shortly." With that, the man turned away, and began his walk down the lengthy hallway, and up the stairs. I could tell I'd been left alone with the other prisoner once the rectangle of light disappeared from sight. I glanced at the small prisoner, trying to get a clear sight of whoever they were; sadly, the lighting was inadequate, and I found myself barely being able to judge my company's location, let alone identity or even gender. I assumed by the figure's size that this person must've been younger than I; even though I did not remember my date of birth, I had judged from my body's appearance that I was somewhere in my late teens – yes, that felt about right.

I leaned back against my wall again, watching the sleeping prisoner's breathing, since there was little else to do. After a few minutes, I realized that I was growing tired again. I supposed it made sense, after all, I'd been through a lot recently, and I didn't even remember all of it. I closed my eyes, and without giving much thought to the process at all, drifted off into slumber.

_A memory…_

_I was lying in a bed at a hospital. Nurses and doctors ran back and forth in front of me, though none of them seemed to be doing anything in particular. I took into account their lack of efficiency. I believed I remarked to one of the nurses that I never wanted to become a doctor; she'd laughed in response. At this time, I pinned my age at six years. Finally, someone came in to talk to me directly. He was a large, burley police officer, who seemed to take far too much pride in his occupation. He sat in the chair beside my bed, and for a few minutes, we didn't talk at all. Finally, he reached into his pocket, and removed a chocolate bar. He told me he'd smuggled it into the hospital from a nearby gas station for me, since he knew how awful the hospital food was._

_As I munched on the chocolate bar, he explained to me that since my home was still an active crime scene, I'd be moved into an orphanage on the outskirts of Domino City. I remember asking him if there would be other children there for me to play with, and he told me that there would be. I told him that this would work for me; I could barely stand being kept in a hospital bed anymore. He laughed at me, and ruffled my hair with a giant smile plastered across his face. After I'd finished the chocolate bar, he took the wrapper from me, and told me that he'd dispose of the evidence. That made me smile for the first time in a month. He left me there, but returned in a week's time to take me to the orphanage. _

_As the police car pulled into the orphanage's circular driveway, I could see the other children in the playground. I pressed my face up against the car window, eagerly peering out at all of the other kids. The police man held my hand all the way to the door of the orphanage, where I was left with an older woman with kind eyes. She showed me to my room, which would remain otherwise unoccupied, except for me, over the course of the next four years._

_I was apparently an unusual child – I never really got along with the other kids, despite the original thought that I would. Instead, I barely interacted with anyone. Not even the old woman who fed us day in and day out. It wasn't until four years later…_

Another soft glow of light disrupted my sleep. The door at the far end of the hallway had been opened again, so I lifted my head to glance at whoever was heading down towards the prison cell. From the bouncing waves of white hair on their shoulders, I determined my guest to be Pegasus. I moved to the steel bars, clutching two of them in my hands, the chains upon my arms and legs clinking behind me as I crawled. Each step that Pegasus took toward me seemed agonizingly slow, and I groaned unconsciously. I heard him laugh, and eventually he stopped, just a few feet away from my prison. He was holding something in a plastic bag in one hand, and an eccentric-looking goblet in the other.

"You haven't eaten for a very long time, nor drank," he commented breathily, kneeling down to push the objects through a small gap under the steel bars. Inside of the bag, there was some sort of pastry-looking thing, as well as another small white pill, like those from before. The goblet contained cold water. Pegasus eyed me carefully as I downed half of my drink, and crammed a piece of the pastry into my mouth. The food and drink was soothing; it had put an end to the feeling of hunger which had rumbled through my stomach the previous time I'd been awake. I slipped the pill into my mouth, chewing it along with a mouthful of the pasty, and swallowed. The remainder of my meal was finished in what I determined to be under a minute.

Pegasus retrieved the empty cup and bag, leaning against the other side of the barred wall. I swallowed again, trying to rid myself of the food's aftertaste. "Thanks," I managed, though not looking directly at my captor. I could tell he nodded though I was not looking at him. We sat in silence for another thirty seconds or so, before Pegasus finally climbed to his feet and began to walk away. "Pegasus," I lightly called after him. He stopped shortly, glancing back over his shoulder. "That memory… why did you return it to me?" Pegasus shrugged in response.

"I had no reason to hold onto that one any longer. It was rather uninteresting, I'm afraid." I let a silence fall over us, and I wasn't expecting him to say anything else, but was not particularly shocked when he turned back to completely face me. "But you never did see your home again. You lived at that orphanage for a very long time. Until you decided that your safety wasn't important, and ventured off." A sudden tightness wound in my stomach, pushing what felt like vomit toward my mouth. I heaved off to the side, knowing it just to be a reaction to my sudden intake of food after who knows how long of not eating. Nothing came out, but my heaving allowed me to take in enough oxygen to settle the stinging in my chest.

"I left the orphanage?" I looked sadly back up at Pegasus. I saw no reason, in that memory at least, as to why I'd ever leave. I had a home, didn't I?

"You were…unhappy there, eventually. I'd love to explain, but that is a tale for another day."

"Damn it Pegasus, please! I need to know!" I shouted, causing the white-haired man to turn away.

"And you eventually shall be privileged with such knowledge. Just not now," he muttered. With that, he began stalking off down the corridor. I said nothing, did not call after him; I knew my efforts would be pointless. I watched the rectangle of light slowly vanishing. But just as that last sliver of light was about to fade away, I heard him call back to me. "Oh! I forgot something. I thought you might want this back. It is yours, after all." There was a clink – a metal object was bouncing through the darkness, catching the glint of light on its surface as it came to a stop at the edge of my cell. I reached my hand under the bars to retrieve it.

It was the metal top from before.


	7. Unfriendly Assistance

_Author's Note: Well, I THOUGHT I wasn't getting anymore of this finished tonight. Funny what a little feedback and inspiration can do. Anywho, here's part seven. Those mysterious teen characters are Tristan/Honda and Bakura/Ryou by the way. Warnings for this chapter: Disturbing themes, mild violence, mild language_

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><p>The door closed once I had the toy in my hand. I felt the object's simple beauty beneath my fingertips, smiling softly at each intricate image as I explored the top's elegant design. I then noticed something I had not before. There was a small hole running through the base of the toy, as though someone had drilled into it. I took this into account before rolling the object over, and feeling for its spiral tip. The shape was so unique, like nothing I'd ever seen or felt before. An idea came to me quite suddenly, and a tight smirk graced my lips. I shifted around at my feet, following a length of a few inches of chain up to the brace on my ankle; the keyhole was easy to find from there. Believing that these shackles were ancient, and therefore not very difficult to pick the locks on, I moved the top down my leg until meeting with the brace. I dug the tip into the keyhole until I heard a clicking sound. It'd been easier than I thought. I did the same for my other ankle, and freed my wrists as well.<p>

I stretched, standing, now that I was free from the confines of those chains. I paced the tiny cell, until my eyes fell upon the prisoner sleeping against the back wall again. I walked over to them, immediately judging the person to be male. My estimate as far as age had been right; the raven-haired boy appeared to be about 11 or 12, and he was, like the tiny metallic object in my hand, overly familiar. I shook him, and his eyes cracked open. "Are you okay?" I whispered. There was no response from the child. With a sinking feeling in my stomach, I assumed the worst: the man hadn't been lying, and this boy was indeed without a soul. I sighed, slipping the tip of the top into each of his braces, and freed him all the same. I smiled at the toy again; it had quickly become quite a treasure. I ran my fingers over its surface yet another time.

I pressed a fingernail into the tiny hole, and reached down to my jean's pocket with my other hand. As I had thought, there was small length of silver chain protruding from the pocket, designed to be attached to a watch. With a jerk of my wrist, I pulled the chain free from where it had been sewed into the clothing, and felt for its ends. I ran one end through the hole, pulling it through the other, and draped it around my neck. There was no clasp, so I stubbornly knotted the tiny metal links together; the result was a tight necklace, about two inches of chain preventing the thing from becoming a choker. I didn't want to lose the top, and I felt somehow drawn to it, so I assumed this would be a surefire way of keeping it close to me at all times.

The boy was giving no response, still. I cupped a hand around his chin, lifting his head so that I could look into his now-open eyes; they were a bright, vivid violet, though curiously lacking any display of emotion. His skin was ever so slightly tanned, and my fingers fell deftly across his chest, meeting with a locket about halfway down his torso. I did not open it, just examined its exterior: it was in the shape of a Duel Monsters card, complete with bronze-inlaid swirling patterns. I scratched its surface briefly, wondering how the boy had come into possession of it, but dismissed the thought and moved to further search him. Much to my disappointment, his pockets were empty. He wore a long-sleeved shirt, blue in color, a yellow vest, jeans, and sneakers. I poked at the side of his face, urging him to awaken, but he did not.

I felt bad for the child. I couldn't possibly leave him here in the darkness all alone, but I'd resolved to leave his place, with or without my memories. Pegasus could find me somewhere more pleasant than this if he still wished to talk after my escape. I shifted myself beneath the kid, and pulled him up and over my injured shoulder. It hurt, yes, but I was more formidable than that; a little pain was nothing. I turned, carrying his dead weight proving to be quite a task, and slammed into the rusty, weakened metal doorframe of the cell. The door collapsed off of its hinges, banging on the floor as it hit. I wished to cover my ears, but had no option to, since that would involve dropping the child currently occupying a vast space across my back. I started running, much to my surprise, for I would not have thought myself able. It actually was a fairly easy task; my legs were like loaded springs after every step, propelling me forward along the dark hallway.

I reached the door at the end of the corridor at last, and stopped briefly to ensure that its opening was nearly silent. Then, I hauled the child over my shoulders once more, and quietly crept up the dusty stone stairway. I could hear some form of bickering up ahead, and recognized one of the voices to be that of Pegasus. I could not place the other. I slowed my breathing, unintentionally, and found myself sliding along the steps on all fours to be that much more stealth. I reached another door at the top of the staircase, and pressed an ear against its hardwood surface. I listened:

"You're cheating!"

"Ah, surely you jest, Yugi boy." That horrible, awful laughter made my stomach tighten into knots again.

"Pegasus, this is enough! Innocent lives hang in the balance!" So it sounded that my seemingly loving captor was not as kind as he would leave one to believe. Somehow, I had known that before, just hadn't had the resolve until now to turn my back on him until recently. It was sort of like turning my back on the past… in a way. I leaned even closer to the door, but did not dare to even rest an ounce of my own weight against it.

"Oh, just hurry up. I'm growing tired of this game. I told you that you had no chance of winning from the very start." I took pity on whoever that Yugi kid was. I scoffed under my breath, and tried to get a peek through the door, but just as I had focused my vision enough to get a glimpse of whatever was going on out there, a hand fell across my shoulder unoccupied by the boy. I shuddered once, and then turned, swiftly landing a punch in the middle of someone's chest. I heard them tumble down the stairs, though thankfully, they did not make much noise, apart from their exclamation of "bitch" upon reaching the bottom of the stairs. There had been another accompanying him apparently, as a white-haired teen now stood just a few steps down from me, gawking at my action.

"That was a little excessive, don't you think?" he asked, mouth still hanging open awkwardly. I made a motion to hush him before he could say anything else, and grabbed him by the shirt to pull him back down into the dungeons along with my fellow prisoner. When we were out of earshot from Pegasus and his company, Yugi, I set the younger kid down and stared at the white-haired boy. He appeared to be about sixteen, and had discolored eyes. A large, golden talisman hung around his neck, loose pieces dangling from a circular centerpiece. It was curious yes, but I knew better than to touch anything with _that _sort of aura.

"Who are you?" I found myself asking, though I shortly after realized the irony of my question. I was asking for their names, and they would surely ask for mine in return, but… I had no name to give them. The white-haired teen blinked at me, mouth still hanging open in shock. I was tempted to reach forward and clamp it shut for him. I shortly after came to notice the boy lying at my feet, the one who I'd punched down the stairs. His expression was of greater shock that the other teen's, rubbing his chest with one of his hands, and muttering something about his immense dislike of females. "And who are you?" I said again, pointing at the fallen boy.

"That's not exactly polite after punching someone in the chest," he growled, struggling to stand. "I think you nearly broke a rib." He groaned quite loudly, and I was tempted to hit him again to silence him, but managed to control that urge. Instead, I simply glared, tightening my grip on the small male prisoner I'd dragged along with me. I waited patiently for the brown-haired one's answer, but he said nothing else; he seemed less suspicious than the other one… dressed in simple clothes, black pants and white shirt, and a tan overcoat. He just seemed harmless. As for the other… the aura his ring output was giving me shivers. I gritted my teeth and just stared them down.

"Well… sorry about that," I sighed. They both looked as if they were about to say something, but I didn't give them the chance. "I'm sorry, but it's urgent that we escape. Where did you come from, how did you find your way down here?" I was surprised at the rate my own mind was functioning, surpassing pleasantries and introductions completely: right down to business; I could only hope that these boys would return the mindset.


	8. Instinct

_Author's Note: I've been doing good with updating so far, or so I think. This chapter is quite important, just letting y'all know. Seto actually makes his entrance in the next one though, finally. You readers are probably bored to death. Haha. Warnings for this chapter: Disturbing themes, violence, death_

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><p>"Uh, well, we came from the duel chamber's balcony," the white-haired boy said. "There was a short hallway and then stairs down into the dungeon. We came looking for Mokuba, but we can see that he's already been rescued, apparently." At this, I raised an eyebrow, though neither of them could probably see it, considering the poor lighting. My eyes fell to the boy I carried under my arm; perhaps this was the one they came to save.<p>

"I assume you mean this child," I hastily remarked, shaking my free hand at the motionless body. They nodded in unison. My head was swimming with questions now, but they could wait for later. "Let's prioritize here. Show me the way out." Though both stunned, both boys wordlessly turned, and began sprinting back down along the dark corridor, towards my former area of confinement. I ran after them, following their lead as they slipped into a narrow passageway near one of the cells lining the hallway. It was a tough fit with the boy under my arm, but I managed. I could've remarked on their slow speed, but it didn't feel natural to do so at such a time. But, at long last, we reached a staircase; the brown-haired boy spread his arms, blocking our progress. "What exactly do you think you're doing?" I snapped. I watched him swallow and calm himself before speaking; was I really that intimidating? I certainly wasn't trying to be.

"This is crazy. We don't even know who you are. You could be working for Pegasus, for all we know, trying to trick us." A rational person might've called his hypothesis valid, but I had no time for being rational. I retorted appropriately.

"If I was working for Pegasus, I wouldn't have stopped after punching you the first time. Let's _move_!" I yelled. With that, I took the lead, darting up the stairs, taking three or four in each steady bound. By the time I reached the end of what seemed to be an infinite expanse of stairs, the two boys following me were out of breath and panting. Yet I held my head high, and did not falter in the slightest. I turned to them again, and cold feeling in my eyes. "Where is the exit of this place?" I questioned, looking along the expansive carpeted hallway before me.

"You'd have to go back through the foyer. That door there," the white-haired one answered, gesturing toward a door about halfway down on the left side of this hallway. "Down the stairs, and out through the front door, I suppose." I had no time to question the truth of his words, and darted toward the doorway. In mere seconds, I knew that I had made a large mistake: Pegasus had seen me. To my right, there was a balcony, complete with marble railing. I caught the glint of his golden eye staring up at me from above; I deduced that he and the Yugi fellow must've been finishing up their game of Duel Monsters. He whispered something to one of his guards, and… oh Gods, that was it, I was surely done for now. He'd have me locked up for good, and nothing would come of my life: nothing at all.

I couldn't let it end like this. I straightened myself, pulling the young raven-haired boy across my shoulders again, and dashed to the closed door. It opened without too much force, and I bolted down the first set of stairs I saw on the other side. There was a large door just about ten meters away! I could make it; I could escape, and then perhaps find some relative of the small boy I was carrying. _Stop it. Prioritize. You must ensure your own safety first. _I shook the voice of reason from my head, and quickened my pace; I _would _make it.

To my dismay, the large door to the outside world was locked. I struggled against it for some time, wishing more than anything for those giant brass hinges to snap; they did not. I'd realized I was strong, but now I was thinking perhaps a bit too much of my power. "The lady, she's escaping!" I heard someone yell. Now I was trapped, with nowhere to run, just more doors leading to dead ends. I set the young teen I was carrying against the closed doors, and propped him upright. I watched as men in black suits lined up as though in procession all the way across the two stairways leading up to the door I'd left open: my only two ways out of this situation. My stomach sank hopelessly.

"Tell your master to let me go!" I screamed, questioning the rationality of the statement as soon as it left my lips. They looked at one another, but appeared rather vacant in expression; perhaps Pegasus had stolen these men's souls as well, and just left them with enough to ensure they'd follow orders. I glowered at their firing squad-like formation, and readied myself for a fight. As I suspected, two of the men came down either set of stairs, leaving a single man to cover the doorway back to the dueling chamber. That might very well be my chance to escape. I winced at the first of the men in black reached me, but was even more surprised at my involuntary reaction.

I dodged the first blow rather gracefully, and slammed my hand upward into the man's throat. The other three stopped where they were as they watched their comrade fall to his knees, suddenly gasping for air. I didn't mean to harm him at all; it just clicked in my brain that at that moment, that was the right thing to do. I was horrified of my inner mentality. He clutched desperately at his own throat, sucking in precious oxygen that would never quench the thirst for the substance alive and burning in his lungs. After a long minute or so of suffering, he fell to the floor, unconscious. I knew, somehow, that he would be dead in less than two minutes. Looking up, I watched the other three men back away from me, as though I was the predator now, as though they were now the ones in danger. _Well of course they are, you just slaughtered one of their fellow guards with your bare hands. _The thought made me want to hurl, again; I hurriedly pushed it away, and assumed my fighting stance once more.

"Are you crazy?" one of them asked, voice trembling at every syllable. I had no idea how to answer that question. My mind sealed the answer for me, but I refused to recognize it, nor act on it, and instead darted past the three guards and up the stairs. They were too stunned to stop me. Unfortunately, the final member of this squad, whom was currently blocking my way, was armed with a gun. The sleek, black pistol reminded me of something that I could not clearly remember, but the sight of a such a weapon was oddly soothing, and not upsetting in the least. He pulled the gun on me, and I reacted so quickly, that I couldn't exactly recall what I'd done once it was finished.

He'd attempted to fire, that much I knew. But had I managed to evade a bullet; evade certain death? I'd pushed myself against a wall to the side of the man, brought my legs about his neck. He looked shocked, what with his head so dangerously close to my crotch. He would remain with that look of shock forever. Jolting to the side, my legs twisted ever so strangely, cracking the man's spine in two at the base of his neck. He too, fell to the floor, a lifeless body. I knew not who I was, and yet I'd already taken two lives today. There seemed something ironic about that.

Soon, I was joined on the upper platform by the other three men. Though intimidated, they seemed to have resolved to battle this out, even if they lost. A wicked grin swept over my maw as they strode toward me together. One man stopped suddenly, and the others followed not a second after. He brought a black phone to his ear, and murmured a few words into it, a look of panic spreading across his face at whatever reply he'd received. I wanted to fight; I was ready for action. But I was given no further opportunity to do so, as they exchanged nervous glances, and pushed their way back through the door I had come through. To say the least, this had confused me.

I tentatively followed the group back into the dueling chamber, staring down from the balcony once more to where Pegasus… he… he wasn't there anymore. My eyes scanned over the area, until locating Pegasus, on the brink of losing consciousness, trembling against the back wall. I wished to have felt some degree of sympathy for the man, but there was nothing. Instead, I ignored him greatly, and strode over to the two teens who had assisted me before, now accompanied by a brunette girl about their age. I gave a casual, two fingered wave before I could stop myself. Both of the boys went wide-eyed. It was quite plausible that I had not chosen an appropriate gesture.

"What did you do with Mokuba?" the brown-haired boy asked. _The boy. Damn it all. I knew I'd forgotten something. _


	9. Reliance and Reunion

_Author's Note: I'm posting this from school... I really shouldn't be. But I felt like it anyhow. So here it is. OH AND HEY. Seto's actually in this chapter. Scary, I know, right? XD Warnings for this chapter: Disturbing themes, slight suggestive themes_

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><p>"The boy?" I asked, more of an answer than a question. The two boys nodded in unison, but the brunette girl was apparently beyond answering my questions, and she threw her arms up into the air. I didn't budge, though she looked fully prepared to slap me; she just didn't seem to be much of a threat, even if she thought she was. "And what exactly are you doing?" I snarled, quite obviously startling her. She backed up, a flush falling over her cheeks in embarrassment. I couldn't tolerate the stuttering that followed, and turned my back wordlessly on the group. Unfortunately, I bumped into a blond woman who interrupted my quest for the exit… and the young boy from before. <em>Mustn't forget him.<em>

"Uh, watch where you're going!" she barked. My eyes scanned her from head to toe, as though assessing danger; I determined her, like the brunette, to be mostly harmless. I scoffed, quite unimpressed, despite what any normal person would've done: apologize and moved on. She was tall and thin, skin pale with golden blond hair. Her eyes were a light violet color, her figure alluring. This one seemed older than the others I'd run into, apart from Pegasus and his goons. Involuntarily, I swept to her right, and immediately proceeded through the door. _I didn't do that; I didn't think to do that. My body is acting on its own accord. _"Hey, you!" the blond called after me. "Where's your manners?"

I turned my head to glance over my shoulder at the woman. "Sorry," I replied. I darted away from the group before they could ask me anything else, for example, my name; I slammed the door back to the foyer behind me. After I'd caught my breath, my mind began reeling. I couldn't afford for this to happen now, and yet it was now my mind had decided to replay the day's events before my eyes… I had _killed _two people; I still didn't know my own name; I had been utterly rude and disrespectful to nearly everyone I'd met. The first thought disturbed me the most, and as my gaze fell silently upon one of Pegasus' fallen henchmen, I felt suddenly ill. What _had _I done?

I couldn't describe the feelings to you if I tried, but trust me when I say that they were sickening and unbearable. I clutched my gut as I walked down the stairs, falling to the floor when I reached their bottom. What was this burning sensation in my head? Why had all of the pain from before come back now, just as I was at the brink of my escape? The bruises ached, my stomach swelled, and my head was pounding with blood. I felt bile gathering in my mouth, and dragged myself over to a potted plant. I vomited a viscous black substance onto the poor thing's leaves. I had _killed! _Another hurl into the pot. _Two men! _I groped my abdomen in agony. Would this torture be of no end?

The thought that plagued my mind above all others: what was I? I seemed to be the epitome of imperfection. I didn't give thought to my actions; I had no memory, and so I could call on none of my previous personality traits to guide me. I was learning myself all over again. For the time being, my brain mostly remained an empty shell, so each situation I'd been involved in had called upon different physical reactions. I called these reactions involuntary thus far. I wanted to know, though, how easily the ability to kill had come to me. I wanted to know why I spoke without reasoning, and why rationalizations were the only part of my thinking process not foreign to me.

Movement in my peripheral vision disrupted my inner monologue. I tilted my head up, staring at the source of distraction. The raven-haired, soulless boy had moved. Mokuba, that was his name. Pushing myself up and away from the potted plant, I stole a few more glances at his body. To my disappointment, he wasn't moving anymore. I weakly called out, bile dripping from the edges of my mouth "Mokuba?" There was no verbal response, but he lifted his head, violet eyes drifting across my figure. He seemed quite lost, much like I'd been upon opening my eyes for the first time after Pegasus had drugged me. Although now in considerable pain, I managed to clutch onto the stairs' railing and pull myself up into standing position. "Mokuba," I said, much louder than before. He still said nothing.

I felt undead as I strode across the foyer toward the young one. The picture of reality before me had blurred, and every one of my joints felt as though it'd been shot out. I may have shed a tear, but if I had, by the time I collapsed at the boy's side, I had no recollection of it. My body still felt heavy, though I was quite lean; this was a feeling I could, once again, try to explain and fail at doing so. One of my shaking hands touched the boy's face, and suddenly, he registered what I was doing. He sprang away from me, ridding my crippled body of support. I fell to the side, barely catching myself on my bruised elbow. I winced as the nerves shot electricity along my arm.

"W-who, what I…" Mokuba nervously stared down, voice fading into oblivion. In spite of his fright, a tiny smile spread across my face – there was something comical about his reaction to regaining his soul. When he looked back up at me, I straightened myself against the closed doors behind me. I nodded at him, and made a gesture similar to tipping my hat, if I had ever owned such a thing. "Y-you… hey, you're the girl from the cell, aren't you?" he asked, expression brightening instantly.

Oh, at last he had spoken to me. And I was more than willing to give reply. To get an actual response from my sore throat, however, proved a challenge. "Y-" I coughed, earning a pitying glance from the boy. "Yes," I corrected, smile growing just a tad. He looked practically ready to embrace me, an act which I would have accepted quite willingly if it hadn't been for the loud bang of a door slamming above us. Mokuba jumped, and I must admit, so did I. I sensed a stormy aura heading toward us, though the youth before me seemed very much at ease… happier than before, even. I raised an eyebrow, rolling my head onto my shoulder to get a quick look at the man now striding down the stairs.

He was tall and lanky, yet with powerful, broad shoulders. Brunette hair hung down in front of his eyes, shielding them from the world; his skin was winter white. This man carried himself with an air of certainty, of confidence; someone wiser than I may have placed it as arrogance, even. He wore a black turtleneck, a deep purple overcoat atop that; black pants and a multitude of belts decorated his lower body. His appearance struck me as intimidating: a word I'd never considered using prior to this moment unless describing myself. I would not even place Pegasus in this man's rank. I watched him move fluidly, gracefully, much like a tiger stalking its unknowing prey. His composure changed quite quickly however, as Mokuba ran to him, and tightly hugged his waist.

"Mokuba, there you are," he muttered, leaning down to cling onto the boy's shoulders. A tiny smile graced his expression, which was otherwise unreadable, due to the concealment of his eyes. "Are you hurt?" he asked, clearly in some sort of parental tone. He seemed too young to be the boy's father; perhaps they were brothers. I watched from afar, shifting uncomfortably against the brazen doors behind me. "Did Pegasus harm you in any way?" I could've made several wise-ass remarks at that statement, but remained silent for the time being. It was as though I was invisible to the brown-haired man. To my amazement, Mokuba shook his head.

"No, I feel fine, big brother," he cheered. "It's like nothing ever happened to me!" The older one seemed unsure of the youth's words, pouting a bit as he leaned against the wall for support. Mokuba blinked, tilting his head curiously at the brunette. "What's wrong, Seto? Did Pegasus hurt you?" Again, I was brought to the edge of making some sort of derogatory remark. Instead, I allowed myself to consider the name: Seto. Why did my head start hurting at that name's very sound? I placed a hand to my forehead.

"He took you away from me, Mokuba. Of course he hurt me," the other replied, swiftly embracing the other again. "But Mokie… how did you escape? I saw you in the dungeon when Pegasus first brought me here. Did you get out by yourself?" Once more, the raven-haired teen shook his head.

"No, not by myself. She helped," Mokuba cooed, pointing directly at me. _Fuck. I don't want to deal with him; his little reunion's really none of my concern! I just want out! _Surely enough, the one identified as Seto was now walking toward me, Mokuba trailing just behind. He extended a hand, as though expecting me to take it; I judged him to be ignorant, blind, naïve, extending a hand to someone who may very well kill him. _Had I just thought that? _All the same, I couldn't take his hand, for my bones had become like lead pipes. I opened my mouth to say something witty to convey the point that I was in horrendous condition and he was actually considering shaking my hand, when all at once…

"What're you doing?" I blurted, realizing that I was rapidly being pulled upward. Soon, I was standing, whether I wanted to be or not. Yes, my legs were shaking – it felt like I wasn't even in contact with solid ground, like it was quicksand beneath my feet. I would've sworn, even, if at that precise moment I hadn't looked into Seto's eyes. They were ice blue, cold and unfeeling, much like I pictured my own to be. The lightning that ran through those eyes startled me, and all the same, this felt so right, and so very familiar. I questioned myself immediately, and tried to back up, falling weakly against the exit doors.

"I was trying to help!" he replied, glaring at me when I pulled away from him. "Rude much." He muttered to himself, his head falling forward and hiding his eyes from me. Thank gods; I didn't know how much longer I could stand looking into them. As I settled into my place, Mokuba gasped. I quirked an eyebrow at him, only to find one of his tiny fingers pointing directly at my chest. A flutter of anger rose in my stomach, and I was about to tell him off for inappropriate behavior, when I too stopped and recognized the tiny metallic object still hanging around my neck. It rested just above my breasts, the dragon image facing outward, the initials in toward me. I couldn't help but reach up to touch it. Seto also seemed to notice, and his sudden closeness surprised me to the point of blushing.

"S-Stop it, get away from me," I growled, though anyone could tell my threat was halfhearted. His hand fumbled with the top hanging from the chain round my neck. I wanted to slap him, but for once, my body was preventing me from acting violently. I was paralyzed by some unrecognizable emotion. Breathes caught awkwardly in my mouth, and I felt very uncomfortable. When he raised his head, I got another look into those sapphire orbs. They were alive now, swimming with feeling, which scared me a bit; he didn't seem the type for frequent emotive responses. "What's wrong?" I asked, sounding as though I cared a great deal more than I thought I did.

"It can't be…" His eyes darted down again, and he twisted the metal object in his hand. His gaze lingered on the "SK" carved into its side. With an expression of shock, he gently pulled on the chain, forcing our eyes to lock only inches apart. What came next was a large variety of senseless babble, followed by a very unexpected question.

"Rina?" An overwhelming pain gripped my head, my vision giving way into shadow.

For the second time in my life, I'd fallen into the arms of Seto Kaiba.


	10. Into The Past: Part One

_**Author's Note: **I'm sorry I haven't updated in a while. I hope that this chapter makes up for it. The beginnings of Rina's relation to Kaiba revealed! It's important to remember that this is A MEMORY, not what is occurring in "present time" in the story, for all you newcomers. Warnings for this chapter: Mild violence _

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><p><em>I sat in my room at the orphanage, alone as always. I listened carefully to the birds' cheerful chirping just outside my window, watched the flutters of color pass back and forth on each bird's journey to the feeder in the back yard. All of my fellow orphans were out playing on the playground, but I'd opted to stay inside, and simply watch the beauty of the outside world from afar. It was not too terribly often I was given free time; Miss Phyllis, the new owner of the facility, seemed to take great pleasure in assigning the most mundane maintenance tasks to me. But on a whim, she'd given me about two hours of freedom… perhaps it was a birthday present! Today, I had turned eleven, though I greatly doubted this was her gift to me; no one ever remembered my birthday.<em>

_I heard a car pull into the building's driveway, which surprised me, for it was not often we had visitors. Only a few children had friends from the outside world come to see them, and I certainly was not one of them, so there was no reason for the sound of a car to interest me, actually. Today though, the sound had disrupted my bird watching. I did not know the significance of this interruption until much later. I turned on my tiny stool, jumping onto my mattress on the floor. Curious eyes peeked around the edge of the doorframe, watching as a police officer and two boys walked up the sidewalk to the orphanage's door. I immediately felt sympathy for the two newcomers, and I pondered what could've possibly happened to their parents, and if it could possibly be worse than what happened to my family. _

_There was a brief conversation between Miss Phyllis and the officer, before the officer tipped his hat, and retreated out the main entrance. Miss Phyllis turned to the two boys. One looked about my age, with brunette hair, one considerably younger, with much longer black hair. I could tell she was explaining something to them, but when the raven-haired boy began asking questions, she lost her patience quite quickly. She turned away, and spotted me peeking out from my room. "Ah, yes, of course. Rina, come here please! I want you to show these two around the orphanage!" I cautiously stepped out of the safety of my room, slowly shuffling toward the newcomers._

_Miss Phyllis had already left us alone, awkwardly glancing at one another in the facility's tiny lobby. The brunette had pain in his eyes, unmasked and burning with indignation. The younger one seemed not to understand the pain of who I presumed was his older brother. I decided that was a good place to start a conversation. "Are you two brothers, then?" I questioned, taking both of them off guard. The black-haired boy backed up, hiding behind the brunette, who was the one to answer me in the end._

"_Yes, we are. My name is Seto, and this is my brother Mokuba," he answered, petting his brother's head quite lovingly. I could tell he cared a great deal for his younger sibling, just from the manner of the touch. I smiled at him in return, and extended a hand politely. For some reason, I felt as though I could be friendly toward this pair, and not be scorned._

"_My name's Rina, Rina Odaria. I've been here a while, so if you have any questions, just ask, 'kay?" Seto nodded, and took my hand. With a light tug, I managed to get the two siblings to follow me back towards the kitchen, where I did a majority of my work. I expected to see Miss Phyllis preparing everyone's lunch, but instead, ran into the chef, a man known as Joku. I didn't quite understand his purpose – he was the chef, and yet Phyllis did all of the cooking herself. Perhaps they were related, and he'd been given the job out of pity. It was certainly interesting how at scarcely eleven, I could make this assumption. _

"_Rina, how long have you been here?" Seto asked, clearly some attempt for small talk as I led them though the rooms. I stopped walking briefly, and turned to face the brothers._

"_I've been here since I was six, almost seven. So, five years…" My own response caused my heart to sink lower than it had in a good year or so. No one had come for me, no one really loved me, and no one would ever adopt the 'creepy child in the corner'. I'd been called that more than once; I could assure anyone of that. It took a deep breath and several speechless moments which followed to clear the thoughts from my mind. I was surprised when Mokuba, who looked only five or six, walked over to me and wrapped his arms tightly around my waist. "T-thank you," I stammered, gently hugging the child in return. He beamed up at me, and we continued our tour._

_Not a half hour later, Miss Phyllis had fetched everyone for lunch. By now, I felt secure around the brothers, and they kept close to me all throughout lunch. Some of the other children were giving Seto strange looks; some were trying to intimidate Mokuba into giving them his leftover food, already. But because I was seated between them, nothing momentous ever really happened – no one wanted to come near me. The other kids had once called me "scary", and it worked as a double-edged sword: I was lonely, but I was safe. _

_There wasn't much conversation between the three of us for the rest of the day; I'd been sent to the kitchen to sweep and wash dishes, while Seto and Mokuba were turned loose with the other orphans to play outside. Once I had finished my chores, there were scarcely ten minutes until dinner. The process we'd experiencing during lunch repeated itself. I sat between the brothers, and so no one said anything to any of us. Miss Phyllis rang the dinner clean-up bell, and I was off to work in the kitchen again. To my surprise, the kid Seto had followed me in to help, and told his brother to go play with the other kids in the toy room. He was taller than I was, so he helped me put away dishes in the cupboards I couldn't reach; I appreciated his help very much._

"_What do you think of this place?" I asked, not looking up from scraping noodles off of a plate. Seto finished drying the dish he was working on, placed it on one of the drying racks, and turned to me. The hurt present earlier in the day was back, more so than before even. I was young, but I knew pain, and I was concerned for him. _

"_It's alright, I suppose. None of the others seem to like us though," he replied, trying to act more cheery than he felt, I was sure. I frowned, and turned toward the brunette with a small sigh._

"_It's because of me," I began, leaning against the counter. "They're all scared of me, and they saw you two with me, so now they're probably scared of you." Seto seemed to ponder this for a moment, he too leaning up against the counter. I awaited his reply with a sour taste in my mouth, and a knot tight in my stomach._

"_No, I don't think that." I faltered a bit, unable to say anything or do anything. He gave me a tiny smile, and extended a hand toward me, which I took; his palm was warm and wet with dishwater, and somehow more comforting than the hands of my own caretaker, Miss Phyllis. "I'd rather be friends with you. You're not like the rest of them. You're not… stupid," he commented, allowing for a short pause before we both giggled at his statement. I returned his smile, running by own soapy hand along his. A loud thump interrupted our exchange of sentiments, however, so we pulled apart and hastily returned to our work. Joku came stumbling into the kitchen, giving Seto a curious glance. _

"_New boy, hmm?" he inquired, leaning down to gently elbow Seto into the ribs. Seto blushed in embarrassment, nodding his head quickly. I tried, but couldn't hold back all of my laughter. Joku winked at me, tipped his old cap, and stumbled back through the door which he'd come through. We exchanged amused glances, and returned to our jobs. Seto and I laughed and talked until we'd finished our task of washing the dishes. He then suggested we go to try and find Mokuba with the other kids, and I reluctantly agreed to the quest._

_As soon as we entered the toy room, I knew something was wrong. Gorochi, one of the oldest boys in the orphanage stood near the corner, his two friends Wan and Haku close at his sides. I couldn't see past their fat figures, but I could only assume Mokuba lay trembling beneath them in the corner. I knew Gorochi to be a bully, and his two friends weren't far behind. It looked as though Seto was confused, so I decided to enlighten him in the most blatant way possible. "Gorochi, get away from Mokuba." I was surprised at the steeliness in my voice, as were most of the others surrounding us. Gorochi didn't turn to face me, but I had instantly enraged Seto, who quite violently flung his entire body at the bully. _

_Though Gorochi was considerably larger than Seto, both by weight and height, I found myself amazed as Seto brought the elder to his knees with a well-placed tackle and punch. Unfortunately, it seemed as though he'd forgotten about Wan and Haku, now both towering over Seto, who sat contently on the bully's chest. "Don't you ever hurt my brother. Ever!" he barked; everyone watched as a smug grin came over Gorochi's face. He pointed at Wan, who raised a fist over the exposed brunette child. I knew I was much smaller than Wan, let alone Haku (who probably stood a good eight inches taller than me) but I charged into battle with all the bravery of a Norseman. The force of a good tackle brought Wan down, and I quickly stepped in Haku's way of Seto right after that. _

_I took a decent blow to my chest, but summoned up enough energy for retaliation, swiftly elbowing him in the groin. Haku grunted in pain, collapsing onto his knees. It was at that exact moment Joku came stumbling into the scene again. "What's goin' on here?" he yelped, stomping his feet angrily on the floor. I looked at him with the most innocent expression I could muster, and proceeded to explain the situation:_

"_We were just playing a game of tag, Joku-chan. Things just got a little crazy," I explained, gesturing to those fallen around me. Gorochi's expression was furious, but I knew he wouldn't dare say anything otherwise. "I'm very sorry. I'll clean up the mess, I promise. Please don't tell Miss Phyllis," I pleaded, giving him the best puppy dog eyes I could muster. Though cuteness was arguably not my forte, Joku nodded and agreed that he wouldn't tell if everything was put back in place before I went to bed. As expected, everyone vacated the room after Joku, save for myself, Seto, Mokuba, and Gorochi. The dethroned bully got up and walked over to me, shoving me against a wall. I laughed in response, before he said anything. "Oh, please. Don't mess with me, or you'll just have to admit to being beaten up by a girl," I taunted, looking him straight in the eyes. _

_He exited the room quite readily, leaving Seto, Mokuba, and I in stiches of laughter. My little bluff had worked; I was a better actor than I was a fighter, apparently. There wasn't much said between us as we cleaned the toy room together, but the silence which lingered was charged with our sense of victory. Just as we'd finished, Joku came in, beaming at the room's tidiness. "Miss Phyllis wasn't feeling very well, so she went to sleep a little early," he explained. "You've done a fine job here, boys and girl. Umm, I'm not usually in charge of this sort of thing, but since Phyllis isn't awake to assign you rooms, why don't you two boys stay in Rina's room tonight? You three seem to be getting along, after all." _

_We walked to my room holding hands, all three of us. It'd been one day, and yet, we had a certain togetherness which seemed impossible to disrupt. As Mokuba and Seto climbed onto the second mattress in my room, I clicked the light off. Peace and hush fell over the orphanage. I walked over to where they were lying, and whispered to them. "Good night." Mokuba's reply came in the form of a tiny snore. I restrained a chuckle, and began to walk away, when something touched my leg. I looked down to see Seto holding me in place; I remember staring into his eyes for what seemed like an eternity, now two serene, beautiful ocean blue orbs. _

_I couldn't explain the warmth radiating throughout my body to you. That simple touch, that one look, was enough to cause it. And just like that, I felt secure. Something I hadn't been in five years. "Good night, Rina," he said. "Sweet dreams." As he released me and I climbed into bed, I couldn't help lying awake for the next hour, simply thinking of how inexplicably happy I was. And as fatigue finally began to take hold of my body, I smiled, and uttered a midnight prayer before my slumber. _

"_Never leave me."_

...was that a mistake?


End file.
